


Encouragement

by commandershakarian



Series: Dragon Age one shots [26]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, Non-Canon Inquisitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 11:31:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7220590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commandershakarian/pseuds/commandershakarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Genevieve Thorne struggles to accept the magic she was born with, but it's a little easier with friends like hers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Encouragement

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @myothermountsaqunari on Tumblr

Skyhold held magic that few could explain. It wasn’t the herbs that filled the pots in the garden or the icy winds that blew in from the mountain the fortress was built into. It wasn’t the dozens of mages that filled the training grounds. It wasn’t the magical spells they practiced day and night. No, it was something else entirely. It seemed to surround the people of the Inquisition, coming from the very stone itself. As a mage, Genevieve Thorne’s life was always immersed in magic. It made up who and what she was. It dictated how others reacted to her. But unlike most mages, Genevieve was afraid of the power she held. And now, with the anchor attached to her hand and with her responsibilities as the Herald, things had only grown worse for her.

Genevieve regretted too much at her young age. Recent events had increased the fear of the power she held. She had taken to hiding away from her friends and the rest of the Inquisition, refusing to see anyone but those closest to her. Of the people she considered her closest friends, those who were never turned away were Cullen and Dorian.

Cullen Rutherford, the Commander of the Inquisition’s army, was a former templar. His skills were helpful in the moments she lost control of her magic and without him, Genevieve doubted she would still be standing. He could cut her off from her mana and keep her from doing anything irreversible. Then there was Dorian Pavus. His friendship and arcane expertises had taught her many things. One was how to heal hers and her friends in battle. The other was that one did not go through life without friends by their side. It was too lonely of an existence otherwise.

Laughter drew her gaze. The two men were playing a game of chess on the side of the garden opposite her, their voices easily carrying over to where she sat tending to her cream-colored roses. Cullen’s blonde hair was beginning to return to its natural curls. He was consistently running his hands through the strands as he stared at the board and plotted his next move. Dorian, however, was leaning back in his own chair, a smirk on his face while he watched Cullen.

“Are you going to move your piece or is your plan to bore me to tears?” Dorian quipped, rubbing a finger over the hair beneath his lip. He wasn’t paying attention to the chessboard in front of him so he wasn’t prepared for what happened next.

Cullen’s mouth twitched, the beginnings of a smile forming on his handsome face. He reached forward and moved one of his pieces forward, easily defeating Dorian. He leaned back against his chair and folded his hands across his knee. “You were saying?”

Dorian’s eyes widened and he hunched over the board, attempting to see where he went wrong. “How  _ did _ you do that? I was cheating and...  _ winning _ .”

“Or so you thought.” Cullen chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. “Care for a rematch, then?”

Dorian shook his head, disbelief his dominant expression. “I’m not that much of a fool, Commander. I can be a gracious loser.”

“Oh, you can?” Cullen teased, brushing a curl out of his eyes.

“Yes. I will bow out this time...” Dorian stood and literally bowed to the former templar, earning flushed cheeks from Cullen for his effort. “... _ Commander _ .”

“A pity. I enjoyed wiping the grin from your face.”

Sharp pain interrupted her enjoyment of their teasing of one another. Hissing, Genevieve pulled her hand towards her body and away from the rose bushes she’d been tending to. There was a chance that it may get pricked again if she wasn’t careful. Her gaze found the offending wound. She watched as a drop of blood rolled down her finger, staining her pale skin red. She hated getting injured, no matter how insignificant. 

Placing the finger in her mouth, she cleaned the blood from her skin before examining the scrape. Remembering what Dorian had taught her, Genevieve inhaled a calming breath, trying to find a comfortable medium in which to use her magic. Closing her eyes, the mage pulled on her mana. The warmth of her healing magic flowed through her veins, a sensation that was still taking some time to get used to.

Genevieve imagined her skin mending. She imagined the pain dissipating. She imagined the scratch disappearing without any evidence that it had ever been there.

When she opened her eyes, Genevieve Thorne was relieved to find that the wound had mended. Her magic had done what she’d wanted of it and there was no better feeling. A round of applause greeted her ears. Turning her head, she found herself blushing at the attention. Dorian and Cullen stood in the gazebo, each with a smile on his face, applauding her effort.

“I knew you could do it, my dear.” Dorian stated with a wave of his hands. “And you doubted yourself.”

“It was just a tiny scratch!”

“Tiny scratch or not, Genevieve, I’m proud of you.” Cullen’s expression echoed this sentiment and it brought relief to Genevieve.

The Herald smiled at her friends knowing that without their support, without their encouragement, and without their friendship, none of this would have been possible. “Thank you.”

Her words were but a whisper and yet, they nodded at her, knowing what she said even if their ears didn’t hear her.

“If you’re done playing in the flowers, do you mind teaching me how to best our dear Commander? I can’t live with knowing he’ll get to leave the garden with a victory.”

Genevieve laughed. She would do so gladly.

 


End file.
